Weight
by SoMuchDepends
Summary: Redmond whisperings always coupled Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe's names together. Much to Anne's annoyance! Thanks to Phil, this party is going to be no different...


It was a frigid Friday in February, and the clear evening calmed Anne's frazzled spirit as the calm of the weekend settled in. The school year swung in full force after her return from Christmas Break, and Anne found herself overwhelmed by the stress of constant deadlines.

Although Anne wanted little less than a blanket and a few hours alone, she knew Philippa had organized a small party just down the road, and Gilbert had asked her to accompany him as he passed her on his way to composition class. So Anne delayed her rest, pulled on her light gray dress, and headed out of Thirty-eight, St. John's.

"I can do it. Just a few pleasantries, a few dances, a few small talks. Then home with a cup of cocoa and a nice, pointless novel," Anne coached herself as she locked her door.

The party boasted all the marks of a charming affair. Philippa had booked the gathering in a new hall just a few doors down from her own residence, and she had been planning all the ins and outs for the past week: the strawberry punch, the lemon tarts, and even the candle heights! As Anne hurried down the front steps of St. John's, she hoped to arrive in time to help Philippa with the finishing touches just before the other guests arrived.

"Anne Shirley! Over here! I'm desperate for some help with these flowers!" Philippa called across the hall as soon as Anne's red head passed through the doorway. "Gilbert always says you have such a knack for flowers, and I can't seem to make them look anything like the magazines Mother always buys."

Anne laughingly scurried across the glossy wooden floor to Philippa, who was indecisively weighing a cluster of delphinium and a bunch of calla lilies in either hand.

"Of course, Phil! After all, flower arranging _is_ my only true talent. At least, my only catching-a-man talent, as Rachel Lynde would say, since I can't bake or clean very well" Anne remarked snidely. "Why should I get my bachelors if I really only need a bunch of flowers and a man?"

Phil tossed her head and laughed. "Oh, Miss Anne! You can be too mean sometimes! And oblivious, too. You needn't catch a man if you've already got one."

Anne snapped her blushing face towards Phil, who had raised one snarky eyebrow.

"Well, I—" Anne began, but Phil pointedly cut her off.

"Hello, Gil! You're the first to arrive. Besides Anne, of course, but you can see that yourself," Phil announced, half to Gilbert and half to Anne. Anne had missed Gilbert's entrance but was thankful Phil hadn't; some things Gil definitely needn't hear.

Gilbert approached the two girls, his eyes flitting from Phil's crooked smile to Anne's flushed cheeks. Anne felt the pressure of his stare and quickly returned to arranging the mountain of flowers, and Phil, taking the hint, engaged Gilbert in small talk about the football season.

"So tell me, Gil, how's the training going? I hear the coach is quite brutal..." Phil began, leading Gilbert to the drink table.

Thankful for the distraction, Anne painstakingly finished the flowers and moved to the front of the hall as the first party-goers filed in. Philippa soon joined her by the door, and the two girls began to greet and mingle with the guests.

However, no matter where Anne moved throughout the evening, she always felt Gilbert's gaze tracking her ostentatiously bright head, although he did not approach her for the first half of the party. This was a fortunate occurrence since Phil, excellent though she may be, fell slightly behind in her hostessing duties as she was engaged for dance after dance. Without Gilbert and any obligation to dance, Anne kindly took up the role, refilling the punch bowl and keeping all the candles lit.

When the crowd slowed, Anne finally took her opportunity to have a few precious moments alone. Heading out the hall's back door, Anne found a small veranda and a nice view of the stars. Anne knew Gil's eyes had seen her escape, and she knew he would meet her in a few seconds. Reveling in her ephemeral freedom, Anne took deep breaths and closed her eyes as she waited for the creak of the door.

But it never came.

Minutes passed, and Gilbert never appeared. Anne finally opened her eyes, and though she had found her long-sought solitude, she felt a strange disappointment. However, before she could ponder that realization a second more, she heard Phil calling her name.

"Anne Shirley! Where are you? I've lost my date, Eric, and I really can't find him in this crowd. They all sort of look the same from my perspective, darling."

Laughter swatted away Anne's deeper questions, and she hustled into the shining hall. "I'm here, Phil!" she called.

"Oh, honey, I really am in a mess! I danced the first dance with him, and then I just completely lost track, and then this other boy, Albert, booked me for THREE whole dances, and I just couldn't say no, because his mother knows my mother, you know, and I know Momma wants me to get married as soon as I can and leave Redmond, and I knew he would mention it to his mother if I snubbed him, and then his mother would tell mine, and I'd just be such a disgrace! Refusing three dances? I might as well become a spinster now!" Phil rattled off her tale, and Anne felt her smile tug larger as each conjunction threw another twist in Phil's story. "And don't think I didn't notice how you helped to host while I was flitting about dancing. I'm so sorry to dump it on you, but I, oh—"

Suddenly, Gilbert walked up between the two girls with a man, Eric apparently by Phil's flashing smile, trailing behind him.

"I believe I have found something of yours," Gilbert said with a wink.

"Now, Gil, don't be so cheeky!" Phil exclaimed, but she grabbed the man's arm and dragged him to the center of the hall, saying, "You owe me FOUR dances, Eric!"

Gilbert turned to Anne with a cocked eyebrow and a half grin.

"Well, Miss Shirley, I must be honest: you have been a most neglectful partner tonight! I have not had a single dance with you, and I do believe that that is not the proper etiquette at all! I have patiently waited all night, but I can no longer. My dear Miss Shirley, will you please dance with me now?" Gilbert mock-pleaded.

Anne's lips curled upward, but she remained the formality. "Why, I do apologize, dear sir. I have not meant to ignore you so, but I simply lost track of my duty as your partner in favor of my duty as a friend to Phil. I do hope you will forgive me for I would so enjoy to dance with you!"

"I could never deny you a dance or a forgiveness, my dear lady," Gilbert said with perhaps more significance than was appropriate for an old school-yard friend; Anne chose to ignore it.

Walking arm-in-arm to the hall's bustling center, Gilbert and Anne began to weave about the other couples in a moderate dance.

"A fine pair."

"Have they set a date?"

"I see no ring."

"With her eyes and his hair!"

The remarks whipped around them as the pair turned, and Anne felt every single one strike her heart and weigh on her mind. Gilbert's smile stayed firm, and his conversation remained steady, but Anne noticed a subtle, joyous spark appear in his eye. However, Anne herself felt a growing exhaustion and self-consciousness.

"Gil, I feel unwell. Would you mind taking me home a bit early?" Anne interrupted his sentence about the debatable theological symbolism in Tennyson's poems.

"Anne, of course! Are you okay? Is it the punch? It tasted a little funny to me. Did you catch a cold when you were outside earlier? I'll go tell Phil!" Gilbert ran off with his questions hanging in the air, and Anne walked to the front of the hall to collect her overcoat.

"So, he did notice I went outside," Anne murmured to herself, as a breathless Gilbert rushed through the crowd and bowed in front of her.

"My lady, I shall see you home," he said with a thoroughly proper grin.

"Thank you ever so much," Anne replied weakly.

As the couple walked through the front door, Anne could feel the inquisitive glances and could hear the soft murmuring of the crowd. Taking one last glance at the party, her eyes met Phil's, whose slow, crooked smile materialized. Anne felt the sudden weight and significance: Phil and everyone else in that hall thought Anne had caught herself a man.

But Phil's smile and the glowing crowd flashed out of sight as Gil turned the corner. Anne felt her earlier disappointment on the balcony dissipate as she glanced at his brown curls, but then the party's expectant murmurs constricted around her heart. Common knowledge and campus whispers coupled her and Gil together.

Avonlea coupled her and Gil together.

"I do not!" Anne thought to herself as she and Gilbert approached Thirty-eight, St. John's.

"Did you hear me, Anne?" Gilbert questioned. "I said I would like to take you to Phil's Valentine's party in two weeks? Unless you'd rather not..."

"No, I'd thoroughly enjoy accompanying you, Gil! It will be just like the old A.V.I.S. parties: all friends, all together," Anne answered quickly. Gilbert's down turned eyes and self doubt moved her to comfort him, despite her complete disinterest in him as a potential Valentine's suitor.

"Ah, yes, exactly like that," Gilbert said slowly. "Well, I suppose I shall leave you here. Goodnight, dear Anne!"

As Gilbert shuffled down the walk, Anne felt crushed and constricted. The pressure of speculation and the weight of Gilbert's own phrases and glances bore down on Anne. She hiked to her room, unlocked her door, and was alone at last. With each sip of warm cocoa, one truth became abundantly certain:

"Oh, dear, what will they say about Valentines Day?!"


End file.
